


Come Back to McKinley

by hpgirl713



Category: Glee
Genre: Dalton - Freeform, Feels, Fluff, I had to do it somehow, M/M, POV Alternating, Quick forgiveness?, ah well, hella sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-25
Updated: 2011-02-27
Packaged: 2018-02-07 14:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1903188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpgirl713/pseuds/hpgirl713
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first ever fanfiction published. Karofsky shows up unexpectedly at Dalton. What happens? Read and find out. Hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kurt's POV

I remembered that day very clearly. I had been  _exhausted._  Not only did I have tests in not one, not two, but  _four_  classes, but the Warblers had asked me to stay late so I could work on the notes to a song I simply didn't  _care_  about. The Warblers insisted on Bruno Mars numbers as obsessively as Schuster insisted on Journey music. I mean, both were perfectly fine in moderation, but…

Honestly? I was so  _over_  Dalton and its stupid uniform. I missed wearing a different carefully planned-out-the-night-before outfit every day. I missed walking down the hall feeling like I was one-of-a-kind. Dalton made me feel like I was a background singer, whether I was in Glee club or not. If it weren't for the no-bullying policy I needed so badly here and the homophobic Neanderthals I left behind, I would have been back at McKinley  _weeks_ before.

And I desperately missed New Directions.

I'd been at Dalton for a month and a half. The only thing that kept me sane from the college-level classes and the ridiculously dull uniform was Blaine. He'd actually been flirting a lot more since our spontaneous little "Baby, It's Cold Outside" duet in the rehearsal room a couple weeks before, but I wasn't sure how I felt about that anymore.

I loved Blaine. I really did. As a good friend though, I think, and a mentor. As a boyfriend though, I think I had discovered he was just  _too_  perfect. Which sounded stupid, even to myself. As stupid as it sounded, though, I couldn't shake the feeling.

And it was almost boring how alike we were. I missed more than anything fighting with Mercedes about the best Vogue issue of the year. Since Blaine was a fan too, I figured we could do the same. But no. We had the same favorite  _everything._

I immediately felt ridiculous. Blaine was  _perfect._ I had  _just_ thought that to myself two seconds ago. Why wasn't I spending every waking moment trying to plan our imminent relationship anymore? Why wasn't I doodling my name with his last name like I had done with Finn?

Which sounded  _perfect_  by the way. I mean, Kurt Hudson? It just rolls right off the tongue. Not that it was at all like that anymore. He was an  _amazing_  brother. But I was prettysure  _Blaine_  would  _never_ be my brother.

What was  _wrong_ with me? What, was I  _straight_ now? I snorted at the thought. Brittany was enough of an experiment for me. I wasn't eager to go down  _that_  road again.

Oh well. I figured I'd obsess over this later when I had more energy. It was getting dark outside. I wondered where Finn was.  _Oh yeah. Finn isn't picking me up today._  He had a date, probably with another Cheerio. I felt bad for him. He'd acted really weird for weeks, since he and Rachel broke up. I hoped they'd get back together soon. They were… right for each other, for some strange reason.

Fabulous, though. That meant I'd have to drive myself home.  _Maybe I'll stop at Starbucks and get a coffee._  As I walked down the hallway from the rehearsal room, thinking of how good a caramel macchiato sounded, I went to get my keys out of my backpack and promptly slammed into someone.

After I grabbed my dropped bag, I went to pick up my keys. But the boy I crashed into had already grabbed them and was holding them out to me. I took them and thanked him… all before I saw him.

No.  _No, no, no, no, no!_   _This can't be happening!_  Why was Karofsky here? Was it not enough that he practically beat me out of McKinley? He had to find me at my  _new_  school to torment me more? My fight-or-flight instinct kicked in full force.

Flight? He looked fast. And he was a jock. I'm sure he could catch up to me easily.

Fight? Again, he was a jock. And strong, of course. But if he was here to hurt me at all, I was prepared. Finn had been teaching me how to throw a punch, and I was getting good – of course, it didn't hurt that my knuckles were so sharp I could practically cut glass. Honestly though, I was more of the knee-to-the-groin type. But hey, to each his own.

I could feel the shaking terror creeping up my back, but I tried not to let it show, and instead focused on his expression, searching for any warning signs. For  _anything_.

He looked… different. And his face, for once, didn't hold anger, exactly. More like intense focus. Underneath that, I could sense… embarrassment? I really wasn't getting it. But he wasn't making eye contact and he didn't look like he was going to say anything anytime soon.

I noticed he wasn't wearing his letterman jacket either. That was funny. I was just so used to seeing him wear it all the time, much like the Cheerios and their uniforms. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a forest green polo shirt. If the boy didn't terrify me so much, I'd almost say that he looked… good.

Finally, I broke the silence, my voice dripping with as much venom as I could possibly fill it with. I hoped I didn't sound as deathly terrified as I felt. "What do you want?" His eyes flickered up to mine for a small second, then back down to his feet. The way he was staring at them, you'd think his dirty, scruffy Nikes were the most interesting thing in the world to him.

I was quickly growing more irritated and more anxious. I repeated myself, emphasizing each word. "What. Do. You. Want?"

He still didn't answer, though he looked like he wanted to. Very badly. On the plus side, he really didn't look like he was going to hurt me or anything. Then again, he  _had_  threatened to kill me, so…

"Look, if you don't have anything to say, then I'm going to leave." He looked up as I shouldered my bag and began to walk around him, muttering, "… last thing I needed today…"

I felt like someone had jolted me with jumper cables when he grabbed my arm. Not too tightly, but enough to keep me where I was. I looked at him with disbelief and, unfortunately, a small hint of fear. Actually, it must have been more than a small hint, because he immediately dropped my arm. Huh.

He finally spoke. "Sorry. I just – I want to talk to you."

Now my face held nothing  _but_  disbelief. "And by 'talk', you mean… what? Hit me? Or maybe you want to finally make good on that threat of yours?" He flinched, shoved his hands in his pockets, looked down at his shoes and shook his head. The no-talking thing of his was pissing me off more than anything.

I kept at him, my voice growing with volume until I was practically shouting. "No? What then? What, do you want to  _kiss_  me out of the freaking blue again, and then somehow twist it around in your own  _screwed-up head_  that it was  _my_  fault? Is  _that_  what you mean by 'talk', Karofsky?" He looked up, looking like I had punched him in the stomach. I didn't care. I  _wanted_  to punch him. I couldn't take this anymore.

Just as I was about to chew him out some more, he stepped forward and placed his hand over my mouth, holding me in place with his other hand grabbing my upper arm. Not aggressively, but just enough that I was shocked into silence. Once the shock wore off slightly, I had to fight the childish urge to bite his hand or lick it or something to get it off my mouth.

"Can't you just shut up for a second, Hummel?" Again, he didn't speak with anything but frustration at what I assumed was my overall cattiness.

He didn't remove his hand from my mouth, either. Unfortunately, I found his hand to be pleasantly warm and surprisingly soft.

Not soft in the usual sense, like mine. It was like comparing whipped cream to very fine sand. Both considered soft, but one distinctly rougher than the other.

That's how I felt about his hand. And to my horror, I realized I had little desire to remove it.

"I just want to talk. There's no one here, so I have no reason to do anything. Just – trust me." At that, I made an 'are you kidding me?' noise into his palm, to which he responded, "Ok, ok, I know I'm the last person you should trust. And I'm the first person to say so. But I –" he sighed and looked down at his shoes, then continued. "I really  _do_  just want to talk."

He looked straight into my eyes and emphasized his next words, like a teacher talking to a kindergartener. "I'm going to take my hand away now. Please. Just – please talk to me."

As promised, he slowly removed his hand from my mouth. He was almost cringing, gauging my reaction. I was still pissed – ignoring the voice in my head screaming that it was because he had removed his hand – but he really didn't seem like he was going to do anything. So I crossed my arms and looked him straight in the eye. "We  _tried_  to talk to you, Karofsky. Blaine and me. We  _tried_  to help you! You didn't  _want_  our help! And  _now_  you want to –"

"Hold on!" He interrupted, "First of all, you've got it all wrong. I  _wanted_ help. More than anything, I wanted help." I answered him with all the sarcasm I'd built up in the seventeen years I'd been alive. "Well you sure had a  _funny_  way of showing it!"

He looked like he was about to interrupt, but I didn't let him. "But you're right. You're right. How could I have not realized you wanted help? How could I  _not_  find it in my heart to help you after everything you've done? I mean, lets look back, shall we?"

I ticked his offences off my fingers, one by one. "You've shoved, harassed,  _and_  Slushied not only  _me,_ but all of my best friends, too. And my brother. And none of that was even this year.  _This_  year, you've outdone even yourself. You've not only done all of the above, but now we can add a kiss to the equation? Now, normally that wouldn't be so bad, out of context – context being of course that you are a  _terrible_  bully who has done nothing but make my high school life  _miserable._  Honestly, the kiss itself wasn't even horrible. But then you went and threatened to  _kill_  me!"

By then, I was completely out of breath. And I had run out of things to say. But I felt  _great_. So I crossed my arms, leaned on my left leg, and waited for him to reply.

It took him a minute. Not only did he look physically pained at my rant, but he also looked confused. What, did I not make myself clear enough?

He finally found words. "I'm… confused." As if  _that_  wasn't obvious enough. I was about to ask exactly it was that he was confused about, when he answered that question. "Who's your brother?"

Well, that was the  _last_  thing I expected him to ask. I was so surprised, I answered with little attitude. "Finn. You didn't know that?"

He looked completely stunned. " _Hudson_  is your  _brother?_  No. I didn't know that."

Now  _I_ was the one who was confused. "What difference does it make?" He looked guilty and embarrassed at my question. He didn't look like he wanted to answer.

Too bad. "What difference does it make, Karofsky? So help me, if you don't  _answer me —_ "

"I thought you…  _liked_ … him."

"What are you talking about?" I didn't care anymore that we had steered completely off topic. All I wanted to know was why he was asking me all these weird questions. He looked at me with that focus again. "Everyone knew you liked him. You weren't exactly subtle about it."

"So? What's your point? Not that it's any of your business, but yes. I used to have a crush on him. But our parents met last year and got married  _weeks_  ago." Another anger flared up at Karofsky when I remembered something else. "And they would have gone to Waikiki for their honeymoon if they didn't have to pay for me to come to this school. Tuition here is expensive, but they thought it was worth it to get me away from  _you!_ So I'm going to ask you again. What. Is. Your. Point?"

He looked like he wanted me to calm down. "Easy Hummel. Just let me explain. I saw you and Hudson hanging out more. You guys ate together, talked all the time, things like that. I saw you talking to him with those wedding books in your arms and a wedding figure in your hand. Then I saw you two  _dancing_  that day in the music room. I thought you were…"

"What? Going out?" I snorted. "Normally I'd say 'I wish', but Finn has actually turned out to be an awesome brother. Sharing a room was kind of weird for him at first, but we're all good now. And not that I need to explain myself to  _you,_  of all people, but I had the wedding books because I was my parents'  _wedding planner._  And I was  _teaching_  Finn how to dance. For the wedding. My father, too. That's why he was there."

He seemed a bit less agitated at my words, but now he looked more uncomfortable. Like he had another question he needed to ask, but didn't know how.

Considering I hadn't been pummeled yet and this was the longest somewhat civil conversation we've ever had, I was feeling generous. "You look like you have something else to ask, so spit it out. And I don't want you looking at your shoes before you answer, because that  _pisses_  me off! Look at me and just ask your question."

He did. Hesitantly. And in voice that was low and warm. "Was… Was the kiss really not horrible?"

I was beyond being simply surprised at this point. I was completely stunned by his question. My brain was mush. When I got my senses together, I regained my sarcasm. "I'm shocked, Karofsky. Could you  _really_  be _acknowledging_ that the kiss actually  _happened?"_

"Just—was it?"

I exhaled impatiently. "No. The kiss wasn't horrible."

He didn't look convinced, so I continued. "Look Karofsky, I'm not one for lying— unless I have good reason. Which is probably the main reason I'm your favorite punching bag. Am I right? I mean you're so far in the closet I'm surprised you haven't found last year's Christmas presents yet. I'll bet knowing someone who won't even lie to protect himself from Neanderthals like  _you_ put that in perspective for you, didn't it?"

He nodded, reluctantly. "You don't  _have_  to lie. You get to be whoever you want and no one cares. Your stupid Glee buddies don't care. Your family doesn't care. I  _do_  have to lie. Every day. It sucks. More than you know."

The anger began to slowly fade. I was starting to feel bad now. He was right. Having to pretend to be attracted to people you weren't was bad enough. That, I knew well enough. Having to pretend to  _hate_  the person you're attracted to, on top of that? I couldn't even imagine. And then being brutally rejected by that person, over and over and over again?

 _Was_  he attracted to me? I found myself hoping so. Again, I was feeling generous. I cocked my head playfully and looked up at him from underneath my eyelashes, smirking. "Just so you know, the kiss itself  _was_ pretty hot."

He looked up at me, surprised and flustered. "Are you kidding? It was pretty much an  _attack_  in an empty locker room by a crazy, homophobic closet-case." He looked down. "You deserved better than that for a first kiss."

I did a double take, all playfulness forgotten. "Wait, what? How did you know that was my first kiss?"

He looked up at me again, an apology in his face. "I heard you and your… friend – Blaine? – talking after I left that day. You said you'd never been kissed."

Now  _I_ looked down at my shoes. "No. I hadn't. And not since, either." I looked up at him with a smirk on my face. "So far, it's just been you." Surprisingly, he grinned.

I almost hated to break the moment, but I had to know. "Karofsky? Why did you do it?" He looked confused. "Bully you?" I sighed. "No. Kissed me. What brought  _that_ on? I mean, what? Did you finally realize you were gay and decide to go for the first guy you could have a chance with?" I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

He looked genuinely shocked. "No! I mean, I didn't know I was… well… I didn't know until I… I kissed you." He laughed once. "I couldn't even say the word out loud in my own  _head_  until that day I took the cake topper from you." He got serious again, keeping the laugh in his eyes. "But that kiss was pure instinct. I figured out  _from that_ that how much I had liked you. Because you're  _you."_ He laughed again, this time much more softly _._ "Because you freak out over your clothes and hair. Because when you get angry, you  _know_ how to fight back. Because you didn't care what anyone said or did to you, you just kept coming to school every day in another crazy outfit, with your head held high, like you were just  _asking_ to get pummeled. I  _like_ you so much because you are  _hilarious_  and  _smart_  and  _ridiculously_  talented and – well, I might as well be honest at this point – really,  _really_  hot. Not because you're… you know. But  _me_  being… well, I didn't  _know_  I was." It was almost amusing how hard it was for him to say the dreaded g-word.

But I didn't dwell on amusement long, because by then I was mentally swooning over his compliments and now obvious care at what I thought.  _Stupid Kurt! Don't fall for it! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_  The voices in my head noticing how close Karofsky had gotten through our conversation and that he looked  _much_  less chubby without his letterman jacket drowned those other, negative voices out.

He looked at me for a minute before saying anything. He obviously saw I wasn't mad anymore, because he softly smiled. I realized I'd never seen him genuinely smile. It was nice. And also kinda surreal. "There really  _was_ a reason I came all the way over here, you know." I was trying to remember how to speak. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

He moved in closer, until I could practically feel the body heat radiating from him. We were less than half a foot apart now. I could feel shivers going up my body, but I wasn't cold and I wasn't scared. Not anymore.

"Come back to McKinley."

Wha… what? It took me a minute to form coherent sentences in my head. Even when I got to that point, all that came out of my mouth was an intelligent "Huh?"

He repeated himself. "Come back to McKinley. I know your boyfriend comes here," He said  _boyfriend_  with not so well contained bitterness, "And I'm sure it's all perfect and magical like Hogwarts or… I don't know, whatever. But everyone back at school misses you." His voice dropped until he was murmuring. " _I_ miss you."

I had to break the moment before I lost my grip on reality. "I'm sure your hockey buddies don't miss me so much. And Blaine's not my boyfriend you know." He looked surprised and relieved. I continued. "He's just a friend. Though he  _has_ seemed  _much_  more interested lately…" I looked at him meaningfully.

I could tell Karofsky wasn't the boy I used to know anymore. I wasn't sure who he was now, then. But I knew deep down that I wanted to find out. So I challenged him. "What are you going to do about that?"

"What do you mean, Hummel?" He looked desperate. I decided to just come right out and tell him, trying not to let him know just how little he really had to convince me. "I need you to give me a  _reason,_ Karofsky. I need you to give me a reason to come back. I felt like I lived in a hellhole there. I was miserable. I had  _nothing._ Here, I have safety. Here, I have the promise that no one – especially you and your 'Puck-head' buddies – can hurt me anymore. And here, I have Blaine. And he's  _wonderful!_ " At that, Karofsky's face held a strong sense of jealousy and… heartbreak?

"I'm not going to give that all up easily. So I'm going to say it again, Karofsky.  _Give me a reason!_ "

He finally got it.

In a matter of seconds, Karofsky's face dropped any negative emotion he had had before, leaving nothing but undeniable attraction and obvious determination in its place. He stepped forward and put his strong hand on my waist, pulling me close. His other hand reached up towards my face. I could feel him slowly brush his soft, warm fingers across the side of my neck and across my jaw line up to the skin behind my ear.

I shivered again, and then closed my eyes, enjoying the warm sensation spreading through me. I could feel him let his hand wander to the back of my head, where he softly stroked my hair, then left his hand cupping the side of my neck, much like he had that day in the locker room. I could feel his warm breath fusing with mine as he whispered.

"Here's your reason, Hummel."

Then his lips pressed against mine so softly I could barely feel them. It was a perfect scene. It was a perfect kiss.

So why didn't it feel like enough?

He pulled away quickly, looking at me cautiously, like he expected to have done something wrong; like he was afraid I would run away. But I wouldn't. I was done running.

I smirked, deciding to put my manipulative provoking skills to good use. "What was  _that_ , Karofsky? You call that a  _reason_? I could  _feel_  something in the last kiss, that day in the locker room. I could tell you meant it. Do you not mean it this time?" I challenged him. He knew I was teasing enough to keep him from being offended, but serious enough that he knew I was… well, serious.

We stared at each other for a moment before he got it, and leaned in again, this time more quickly and  _much_ less carefully than before.

Now  _this_  was a reason. I could feel everything he'd been bottling up inside for God only knows how long. I could  _feel_  that he  _wanted_  me and that he wanted to  _prove_  it. I could feel his enormous combination of attraction and frustration and happiness and jealousy and overall  _passion_. I could feel the promise of the end of violence, but the frustration at the knowledge that this still wouldn't be public for a while. For that moment, though… I simply didn't care.

It was different than before. Our very first kiss had been violent and angry. This was just as passionate, but there was no anger and no violence. It was slow and smoldering and  _real._ It was pure desire.

It was amazing how all consuming a good kiss could be. All thought flew right out of my brain and instinct took over. I vaguely found myself grabbing the front of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. He let his hands drag themselves from my neck and waist down to wrap me around the middle, squeezing even tighter. His lips started moving even more determinedly against mine.

It almost scared me for a minute. I wondered how I was going to breathe. He solved that problem by breaking away just enough to kiss eagerly down right below my jaw line and all the way down the side of my neck.

I took a few shallow breaths and softly moaned in satisfaction, practically melting as I did so. This was  _fantastic_. One of my hands went from grabbing his shirtfront to clutching the top of his arm. The other hand went behind his neck, gripping his hair and neck tightly.

Somehow, he found his way to a wall on the side of the hallway and pinned me against it, his lips now reaching the skin where my neck met my shoulder and his hands keeping my hips glued to the wall – and  _his_ hips glued to mine. It wouldn't have mattered, but he hardly knew his own strength and pinned a little harder than necessary. I let out an involuntary "Oompf", and the glorious moment was broken.  _Damn._

He broke away immediately, making sure I wasn't hurt. I laughed. It was such a different reaction to my own pain from Karofsky that it would take some getting used to.

He narrowed his eyes at me; probably thinking I was crazy, or making fun of him. I quickly let him in on my personal joke. "Don't worry. I'm just not used to seeing you so concerned for my well-being. That's all." He let out a laugh, too. Then he sobered up, and asked, "Did I hurt you?" He was so worried; it was actually kind of adorable.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much. I bruise like a fabulously dressed peach, and you play in a brutal sport where the main goal is slamming three hundred pound Neanderthals against unbreakable walls. Besides, this isn't even the  _first_  time I've been slammed into a wall by you. This is just the first time I haven't really  _minded_." He flinched. I ignored him and continued. "It's just something we're going to have to get used to." Confusion flashed across his face, until he fully absorbed my words. "You mean… you'll come back?"

I seriously thought about it for a second. I flashed back to everything he and his friends had done to me. It wasn't pretty. So I tried to bargain. "Look, Karofsky…"

"Dave."

I started, surprised at his interruption. "Huh?"

"My name is Dave." He smiled humorlessly. "After what we just did, I think it's safe to call each other by our first names. Don't you?" Hmm. Dave.

It seemed I finally figured out who the boy he had become was. The horrible bully who made my life miserable was Karofsky. This sweet boy who cared about me and missed me was Dave. I liked it.

"Ok, Dave." He visibly relaxed at his name. I continued. "I haven't by a long shot forgotten how I was treated at McKinley." I gestured between the two of us with the hand that had been gripping the top of his arm. "This little make-out session we just had doesn't erase all that. Though I must say; it  _was_  pretty hot." I smiled at him and absentmindedly started to softly run my fingertips up and down the back of his neck.

He didn't smile back. He just shivered slightly at my touch and tightened his grip around my waist. "I'm sorry. I am  _so_  sorry. There was  _no_  excuse for what I did to you. Any of it. Well…" He finally smiled a little. He brought one hand up and brushed away a stray piece of hair that had fallen out of place. "Actually I  _do_ have an excuse for kissing you without your permission. It wasn't the best way to go, but do you even  _know_ how adorable you are when you're yelling?"

I looked at him, surprised. "I'm adorable?" He was about to respond, but I cut him off. "Actually, don't answer that. I know I'm adorable. But you're making me lose my train of thought." He smiled, 'locked his lips' and 'threw away the key'. Then, he looked at me expectantly.

I took a deep breath. "I'm not going to come back right away. I need to know that you've changed. So, I'm going to keep tabs on you through my friends in Glee club. I need to know that you've stopped harassing them."

He nodded somberly, and then waited for me to continue. "Also, I don't expect you to change from 'I'm going to beat the ever-loving crap out of the Hummel kid just because he's gay' Karofsky to 'the Hummel kid is my boyfriend now, oh yeah and by the way, I'm gay' Dave overnight. I'm not saying that we should hold hands down the hall or that you should walk me to all my classes – though that would be  _amazing_." I smiled at him. He didn't smile back.

"But you need to not be my bully anymore. If anything, we need to at  _least_  be friends at school. I can start by tutoring you in French. It'll be a perfect cover – considering how bad your grade is – for you to explain to your 'friends'. We can go from there. How does  _that_  sound?" He thought it over for a minute, looking into my eyes.

Finally, he pulled me in so I was pressed against his chest. He leaned his head on mine. I heard him sigh. "That sounds good, I guess. I wish you'd come back right away, but I'll just have to deal with it." We just stood there like that for a few moments. The calm silence was comfortable, without any awkwardness. I loved it.

He broke the moment too soon. "And Kurt?" I leaned away from his chest to look into his eyes. "I just want to let you know that  _I_  want to do all that, too. You have  _no_ idea how much I want to walk down the hallway holding your hand. Or walk you to  _every single_  one of your classes. And it's going to be harder than you know  _not_  to grab you and kiss you every time I pass you in the hall."

_Epic swoon!_

"I know, Dave. Look, my dad's not going to be so keen on you coming over to my house to study. Neither is Finn. Why don't you come  _here_ every Wednesday and we can work on your French grade. Ok? There's this  _nice_ library here that  _no one_  bothers to go to after school's out. The first thing we can do is  _make out_ a study guide." I looked at him with mischievous eyebrow raise. He got it right away. He smiled widely and squeezed my waist. "That sounds great."

I dragged my hand softly from behind his neck to down the side of it, letting it stay there. I went on tiptoe and kissed him softly.

Well, he wasn't having that. He leaned down towards me and kissed me with more eagerness, pressing me against the wall. Again, I got lost in the feel of his warm lips. Soft, but unbelievably masculine. Firm, but flexible.

I heard his not-so-soft moan in the back of his throat when I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The noise sent fireworks up and down my body.  _I love kissing!_

After a few more minutes of making out in the middle of the Dalton hallway, I broke away. Dave was breathless, looking happier than I had  _ever_ seen him. I felt the exact same way, and was just as breathless, but I managed to speak. "That will have to last you until next Wednesday. I really do have to go. It's nearly 9:00, and my dad's going to freak if I'm home later than that on a school night."

He was still having trouble breathing, so it took him a minute to respond. "I guess you're right." I reluctantly broke away from his grip to grab my forgotten bag. I didn't even know how long we had maintained contact, but I didn't care. Without him near me, I felt cold. Like someone took away my personal space heater. I shivered once. He noticed and grabbed my hand immediately. "You mind if I walk you to your car?" I grinned up at him. "Not at all."

As we walked to my car in more comfortable silence, I thought about what I was doing. I was practically dating Dave Karofsky now, my former tormentor. The reason I left McKinley in the first place.  _What are you thinking?_

It would take some explaining to my friends and family, but I knew it was worth it. I knew he wouldn't hurt me anymore. Somehow, this was going to work out.

When we reached my car, I turned towards him, leaning against the driver's side door. Without saying anything, he brought his other hand up to my face, brushed my cheek lightly with his thumb, and kissed me softly.

Not softly like before, when he was still afraid I'd run away. Softly, but with the same fervor from our make-out sessions. It was beautiful. And it still  _felt_ like something. It still gave me chills and put large,  _wonderful_ knots in my stomach.

When he broke away, I still had my eyes closed, my lips following his of their own accord. It took me a second to realize he'd stopped.

He laughed softly. "Go home, Kurt. It's freezing out here. I'll see you on Wednesday." He squeezed my hand once before letting go. I pouted. " _Fine_. I'm going." I exhaled in mock impatience. "See you Wednesday." I turned around and climbed in. I started the car and pulled out, blowing him a kiss as I did so. He beamed.

The last I saw of him before pulling out of the empty parking lot was him jumping around happily, fist pumping like crazy, like a five-year-old boy who just got his first video game. I broke out laughing and couldn't stop until I was literally choking on my own laughter, halfway to my house.

This was definitely a Dave Karofsky I could grow to love. My lips were  _still_ tingling. Wednesday couldn't get here soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Reposting all of my fics from my ff.net account in order of publication. I'm there under hpgleek713 if you want to go check it out. Enjoy!)


	2. Dave's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter from Dave's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did the same chapter from Dave's POV. I hope you like it! I know it's much longer than the first one, but I figured Dave would think about Kurt in much more superlative ways that the other way around. I hope everyone likes this chapter as much as the last one. So leave your reviews! As much as I love faves and and alerts, it makes me feel warm and fuzzy whenever I get a new review.
> 
> Random note... So my mom read this story and told me I was "too good at writing makeout scenes".
> 
> ...whatever THAT means... :D
> 
> Anyhoo, on to the story!

I wasn't quite sure what I expected to happen, but it certainly wasn't  _this._

All I had wanted was to  _talk_  to Kurt. After that  _kiss,_  my urge to be near him was overwhelming. And that was when he was in the same proximity as me. Even if I couldn't  _talk_ to him—save for, you know… the death threat and other stupid, stupid things I had said and done—I could still  _see_ him. That was enough for me.

Well, actually it wasn't. But it was the best I could possibly hope for in our…  _current_ …relationship.

But now that my return to McKinley had been enough to make him leave the school, I couldn't even do that. Which, you know… sucked. Epically. I think the worst part of it was the fact that I had decided to try and make things right between us when I got back. I was prepared to do whatever I could to ease his fears and be the good guy for once. I was going to apologize—hell, I was ready to get on my knees and  _beg,_ and screw any of my so-called 'friends' who tried to harass me about it.

But no. I had returned to a perfectly normal, unchanged William McKinley High School—minus the one boy who I'd actually cared about seeing. So for a while I tried—stupidly—to convince myself that I never liked him.

I couldn't deny that I was gay, because it had become so ingrained in my mind that there was no way I could. With Kurt gone, however, it seemed like it would be easier to forget all about him.

Yeah. That didn't last long.

I'd heard through the inevitable gossip that he had hauled tail over to that fancy Dalton Academy. Just the thought of it made angry shivers of heat go up my back. Because that was where  _Blaine_ went.  _Ugh._

I hated him. Hated him, hated him,  _hated_ him! With his stupid hair and his stupid uniform and his stupid charming good looks…  _Damn!_  I'm sure Kurt was ecstatic to have someone like  _Blaine_ around. They could hold hands and flirt and act like a couple and… kiss. He was probably  _happy._

So why was I driving to Dalton to try and drag him back?

Well, I already figured I was crazy at this point, so I simply went with  _that_ explanation. Besides, I just missed him so much. I could tell his Glee Club friends did too, but at least they could see him outside of school. I didn't quite have that option. I had nothing but his yearbook picture from last year to see now, and we had completely vandalized it. (I felt horrible now about drawing boobs and a skirt on him in the Glee Club photo, but if you turned the picture upside down, I found out the boobs formed a heart.  _Ha_. How fitting.) The  _one_  thing I could do was go and apologize and hope for the best.

Anyway, worst-case scenario? He'd yell at me. Or hit me. Or call the police and file a restraining order.

Either way.

I was really, really nervous. I usually feel more confident in my letterman jacket, but I purposely left it at home in favor of a dark green shirt I got last Christmas and never wore and a pair of my 'holiday jeans', as my mom called them. (They were just the ones I wore at family parties when I wasn't allowed to have food stains on my clothes.) I figured the jacket would scare Kurt, and that was the  _last_ thing I wanted tonight. I wanted him to see me as a different person. A  _better_ person. So I left the jacket—and the bully—at home while I went to go see Kurt.

Now, ok, before you judge, it's not like I was stalking him. The only reason I knew he would still be at school at eight was because I overheard Mercedes asking Hudson if Kurt was going to be free to hang out. I used to be enormously—if not fairly irrationally—furious at Hudson for spending so much time with Kurt for God knows what reason. But the jealousy died down a bit after the whole 'Thriller' fiasco and even more when he said Kurt had Warbler's practice—whatever the hell  _that_ was—until eight or eight-thirty, and he wouldn't be picking him up because he had a date with a Cheerio or something.

And that's why I was in my car, driving to Dalton Academy at seven-thirty at night.

Once I parked at about eight, I walked inside to the front office. I looked around briefly, angry with the school itself for stealing Kurt away, but still grudgingly impressed with its… magnificence. I mean, seriously. Was this place a freaking museum or something?

I asked the secretary at the front desk where I could find the Warbler's—hoping I sounded like I knew what the hell I was talking about—and she gave me a few simple directions.

When I turned a corner into a long hallway, praying I wouldn't get lost in this stupid school, someone ran into me.

_Yes!_

My memory had not done him justice. He looked  _amazing._  I hadn't even realized how sick he had looked back at McKinley. He had had permanent dark circles under his eyes. I felt a stab of guilt as I remembered that  _I_  was the reason he had looked like that. But here he looked healthy.  _Bright._  And that uniform—that I had hated on pretty-boy Blaine, but seemed to have  _no_ problem on Kurt—just made him look so much better.

Of course, all I could see was the top of his head. Out of embarrassment, I assumed, he didn't even look up and went to pick up the keys he had dropped.

Well, I figured there was no time like the present to improve my image, so I bent down to pick up the keys  _for_  him. He took them from my hands and mumbled his thanks. Finally,  _finally,_ he looked up at me.

Ok. Now I knew I had a crush on him. I even knew he had  _way_ too much power over me, whether he knew it or not. What I didn't know was that a mixture of his time away and wide, deep blue eyes staring straight at me were enough to make my entire brain sort of… I don't know… explode and liquefy and short circuit and smolder at the same time.

_Grr! Focus, Dave! You're on a freaking mission here!_  I forced my eyes away as I was suddenly hit with a giant wave of embarrassment and fear. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to  _do!_   _This was a bad, bad idea._

In my peripheral vision, I noticed that the shock and fear on his face were impressively hidden in a matter of microseconds. If I didn't know those emotions on his face so well—normally being the one who caused them, of course—I would have never even known they were there.

I saw his eyes glance down the hallway behind me and I noticed his right hand twitch.  _Ah, fight-or-flight._ I was ninety-eight point seven percent sure he was thinking about bolting down the hallway or punching me in the face. I really hoped he didn't. His knuckles looked pretty painful.

Then, his eyes flickered from my face, down, and back up, frowning as he did so. Knowing him, I was pretty sure one of the first things he was noticing was my outfit.  _Figures._ At least I had left the jacket home. I felt… smaller. I  _felt_ less intimidating.

But his eyes were very distracting. I was happy just seeing them again—even in my peripheral vision, as I still refused to make eye contact. But the silence was growing tenser, and I realized with panic that he was expecting me to say something.

Finally,  _thankfully,_  he spoke first. "What do you want?"  _Ouch!_  I didn't even think it was  _possible_ to put so much malice into four short words. That—along with just the sound of his  _amazing_  voice—was enough to break my concentration at not looking at his eyes, but only for a second. Feeling like a little kid who just got caught stealing cookies or something, I kept my eyes firmly glued to my shoes, regretting not wearing better ones. Seriously. I'd had these stupid Nikes for years. I couldn't wear something any better?

I could feel him growing angrier with each second that ticked by. He repeated himself, like I was deaf or something. "What. Do. You. Want?"

I wanted to answer him. So badly.  _So_  badly. But I realized that I didn't know how to answer his question. What  _did_ I want? Him, obviously. But I was pretty sure that wasn't gonna happen. Did I want him to come back to McKinley? Or did I want him to be happy? He wasn't happy there. He was happy here. Did I really want to interfere with that? I had made a promise to myself after being attacked by Evans, Chang, and Artie the wheelchair kid in the locker room that I wouldn't interfere with his happiness anymore. And here I was, doing just that.

He eventually got tired of the silence and must have realized that I wasn't going to hurt him, because the rest of his fear melted effortlessly into impatience and suspicion. "Look, if you don't have anything to say, then I'm going to leave." I looked up in panic as he picked up his dropped bag and began to walk around me, mumbling incoherently.

_Crap!_   _What do I do? What do I do?_ Without thinking, I grabbed his arm, immediately dropping it when he stiffened and looked up at me in distrust and complete terror.  _I didn't grab him that tightly, did I?_  All I had wanted was to keep him from leaving.

Finally, I found some words. "Sorry. I just – I want to talk to you."

So  _that's_  what I wanted.  _Well, good to know_. It would be enough, I guess… for now.

He looked at me in astonishment, thankfully losing the fear. But it looked like he was about to yell at me. I braced myself for the worst. "And by 'talk', you mean… what? Hit me? Or maybe you want to finally make good on that threat of yours?"

I openly flinched. Did he really believe that? I mean, if I had wanted to hurt him, I would have  _done_ it by now. That was the  _last_ thing I wanted. God, I wish I had never said that to him. I was never going to live that down. Not that I deserved to. Honestly, it was probably my biggest screw-up. Ever. I've  _never_ regretted  _anything_ as much as that threat.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, noticeably putting 'The Fury' away, dropped my eyes back down to my ancient Nikes and shook my head. I could feel him getting more pissed by the second, his voice growing and growing. As sick as it was, and as much as it hurt that he still thought I'd hurt him, I was actually really enjoying myself. I had missed this so much. In the time between the threat and my expulsion, Kurt had lost that fire that made him so… hot. Pun intended.

He'd just… lost it. He refused to fight back. He refused to stand up for himself anymore. Rather than yell at me, his eyes would tear up and his voice would shake in fear. He wouldn't make eye contact. He wouldn't make  _any_ contact. And I had no one to blame but myself.

But he was sure as hell fighting back now. "No? What then? What, do you want to  _kiss_  me out of the freaking blue again, and then somehow twist it around in your own  _screwed-up head_  that it was  _my_  fault? Is  _that_ what you mean by 'talk', Karofsky?" I felt my stomach twist painfully at 'Karofsky'. Not that I expected anything else, but still…

And my head wasn't screwed up. Not anymore. I knew  _exactly_ what I wanted.

Right now, I  _wanted_  him to know I wouldn't do anything. I had  _wanted_  him to know that ever since I  _made_ the stupid threat. But he didn't look like he would stop anytime soon. And screw  _wanting:_ I  _had_  to stop him. The question was how to do it.

_Hmm_. I suddenly had an intriguing idea on how to shut him up that seemed to have proven quite successful in the past…  _NO! No kiss, Dave! You're on a mission. And you know how that turned out the_ last  _time…_

So I focused. As he opened his mouth to speak again, I grabbed his upper arm with one hand and clamped my hand over his mouth.  _His mouth…_

_No! No, no, no! Don't get distracted!_ "Can't you just shut up for a second, Hummel?" Yes, ' _Hummel'_. Until we were on better terms, I wasn't sure how he'd respond to me calling him 'Kurt'. So I'd keep things normal for a while.

Truthfully, it was much easier to concentrate when his lips were covered. He silenced immediately. If I wasn't so irritated with the angry tone he had been using, I would have felt proud of myself for being able to shut up Kurt Hummel.

I didn't take my hand away as I spoke. I didn't want him to speak again until I had had my say, and I loved having an excuse to touch his face. It was so, so soft. And cool. They seriously needed to turn up the heat for him or something, because my hand was burning on his skin. Then again, that may have been just me.

_Focus!_ "I just want to talk. There's no one here, so I have no reason to do anything. Just – trust me." I heard him groan in protest into my hand, and I could almost hear him going 'are you kidding me?' in my head. It was almost funny. I gave in easily, remembering our history together. "Ok, ok, I know I'm the last person you should trust. And I'm the first person to say so. But I –" I looked down in embarrassment, wondering how I was going to say what I needed to say. "I really  _do_  just want to talk."

I looked directly into his eyes and spoke as though I were speaking to a small child. "I'm going to take my hand away now. Please. Just – please talk to me."

I took my hand away cautiously, bracing myself for more yelling. So you can imagine my surprise when he simply gave me 'the face' and crossed his arms. He looked me directly in the eye and his voice was relatively calm. Relatively. "We  _tried_  to talk to you, Karofsky. Blaine and me. We  _tried_  to help you! You didn't  _want_  our help! And  _now_  you want to –"

"Hold on!" I had to stop him for a minute to explain myself. It took most of my self-control to not get myself all worked up over the mention of pretty-boy and to focus on the subject at hand. "First of all, you've got it all wrong. I  _wanted_ help. More than anything, I wanted help." I really did. Just… not the way they tried to provide it. If Kurt had tried to talk to me in complete privacy— _without_ pretty-boy—I have  _no_  doubt that I would have stayed calm. Well… calm _er._  Maybe.

But trying to out me in the quad? Not the best idea on their part.

"Well you sure had a  _funny_  way of showing it!"  _Jeez!_  Did he have his tone permanently set to 'sarcasm'? I was about to interrupt again, but he stopped me. "But you're right. You're right. How could I have not realized you wanted help? How could I  _not_  find it in my heart to help you after everything you've done? I mean, lets look back, shall we?"

Uh-oh.

He used his hands a lot to emphasize his point. "You've shoved, harassed,  _and_  Slushied not only  _me,_ but all of my best friends, too. And my brother. And none of that was even this year.  _This_  year, you've outdone even yourself. You've not only done all of the above, but now we can add a kiss to the equation? Now, normally that wouldn't be so bad, out of context – context being of course that you are a  _terrible_  bully who has done nothing but make my high school life  _miserable._  Honestly, the kiss itself wasn't even horrible. But then you went and threatened to  _kill_  me!" He finally ran out of breath,—and apparently things to say—crossed his arms, and looked at me with a self-satisfied look on his face.

Ok, I'm not ashamed to admit that my brain  _totally_ overloaded. I had to mentally bullet-point the important parts for it to even begin to make sense. It looked something like this:

I knew I had Slushied Kurt and his friends, but who the hell was his brother?A kiss wouldn't have been so bad if I wasn't a bully?The kiss wasn't horrible?

Words finally caught up to me. "I'm… confused." Once I mentally sorted it all out, I decided to tackle things one at a time.

"Who's your brother?"

He was completely thrown off-guard. The sarcasm dropped from his voice completely as he answered my question. "Finn. You didn't know that?"

I was so shocked after that, that it took me a minute to collect myself. " _Hudson_  is your  _brother?"_ Well  _that_ sure as hell explained a lot. Sort of.  _Wait… not really._ How the hell could they be brothers? "No. I didn't know that."

_He_ looked confused now. "What difference does it make?"

Whoops.  _Well_ now _I feel stupid_. What the hell was I supposed to say? That I had been  _jealous_ of Hudson? That I wanted to tear him apart for hanging out with Kurt so much? Yeah, like  _that_ wouldn't completely freak Kurt the hell out!

His anger started to boil up again. "What difference does it make, Karofsky? So help me, if you don't  _answer me —_ "

I found myself complying, and then I couldn't take it back. "I thought you…  _liked_ … him."  _Oh good job, Dave. Well done._ Now _what's he gonna think?_

He looked at me in exasperation. "What are you talking about?" Did I really need to remind him? "Everyone knew you liked him. You weren't exactly subtle about it."

That was an understatement. Unless you lived under a rock last year, there were three things in McKinley High that you just  _knew:_  Kurt Hummel was gay, he was in love with Finn Hudson, and for God's sakes _don't screw with Sue Sylvester!_

"So? What's your point?" Oh. My.  _God_. What did he  _think_  my point was? It wasn't obvious yet? I mean, I  _kissed_  him. If that wasn't a huge damn clue, I didn't know  _what_ was. Either I was an  _amazing_  actor, or he was _really_  oblivious. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes. I used to have a crush on him. But our parents met last year and got married  _weeks_  ago."

_Ohh!_  Ok. I got it. I suddenly had a flashback to that week last year when they had all dressed up like Lady Gaga. Azimio had said something to Hudson in the bathroom about moving in with 'that Kurt kid' and catching the gay or something. That must have been when their parents were dating.

And if they got married… they'd probably need a wedding cake topper… like the one he had in his locker… the one that I stole…

"And they would have gone to Waikiki for their honeymoon if they didn't have to pay for me to come to this school. Tuition here is expensive, but they thought it was worth it to get me away from  _you!_ So I'm going to ask you again. What. Is. Your. Point?"

Waikiki?  _Wow_. I didn't doubt that the school was expensive, and I remembered that Kurt's dad worked at an auto shop. He owned it, but still. They didn't get a honeymoon and had to pay all that money for Kurt to come to this fancy school because  _I_ had broken him down. I suddenly felt really,  _seriously_  guilty.

If he could just calm down, I'd try to make myself clear. "Easy Hummel. Just let me explain. I saw you and Hudson hanging out more. You guys ate together, talked all the time, things like that. I saw you talking to him with those wedding books in your arms and a wedding figure in your hand. Then I saw you two  _dancing_  that day in the music room. I thought you were…"

"What? Going out?" He snorted, almost amusedly. Honestly, I think that was the closest thing to a laugh I'd ever heard from him. Before I left tonight, I was going to make sure I made him laugh for real. I didn't know how, but it was  _going_ to happen.

"Normally I'd say 'I wish', but Finn has actually turned out to be an awesome brother. Sharing a room was kind of weird for him at first, but we're all good now." They shared a  _room?_ "And not that I need to explain myself to  _you,_  of all people, but I had the wedding books because I was my parents'  _wedding planner._  And I was  _teaching_  Finn how to dance. For the wedding. My father, too. That's why he was there."  _Ohh! So_ that's  _why they were dancing!_ I immediately felt like an idiot. I'd really gone through a whole lot of grief for nothing.

But I still had a question. I wanted to ask  _so_ badly, but I had no idea how to do it. Kurt seemed to feel bad for me, and urged me on, even though he still managed to sound impatient. "You look like you have something else to ask, so spit it out." I was about to look at my shoes in embarrassment, a bad habit of mine when I'm nervous, when he added, "And I don't want you looking at your shoes before you answer, because that  _pisses_  me off! Look at me and just ask your question."

So I did. I asked him the question that had been bothering me ever since it happened. And I made sure to use my least threatening voice possible. I didn't want to scare him anymore. "Was…"  _God, I can't believe I'm about to ask him this…_ "Was the kiss really not horrible?" My face burned.

He stared at me with his mouth hanging open slightly for a considerable amount of time. I would have found it  _really_  cute if I weren't so impatient for his answer. Which was, when he came to his senses, sarcastic. Of course. "I'm shocked, Karofsky. Could you  _really_  be  _acknowledging_ that the kiss actually  _happened?"_

_Huh. That's actually not the worst response you could have gotten._ No, the  _worst_ response I could have gotten was a punch in the face. But he really didn't answer the question. And I  _needed_  an answer. "Just—was it?"

He exhaled sharply. I cringed internally, bracing myself for the worst. But then he gave me a  _real_  answer. "No. The kiss wasn't horrible."

I guessed he was trying to make me feel better or something. How could the kiss  _not_ be horrible? For him, anyway. For me, it was the best thing ever. But there was  _no way_ that could be good enough for him. He deserved to have someone kiss him who wouldn't freak out and run away, only after slamming his hands into a metal surface like a freaking idiot.

There was no way he could possibly be telling the truth, because it simply couldn't have been good enough to be better than 'horrible'. And that was just depressing.

He seemed to catch my mood quickly, like we were in tune. I liked that. "Look Karofsky,"— _Again with the Karofsky? My name is_   _Dave!_  —"I'm not one for lying— unless I have good reason. Which is probably the main reason I'm your favorite punching bag. Am I right? I mean you're so far in the closet I'm surprised you haven't found last year's Christmas presents yet." Trust Kurt Hummel to be creative enough to come up with a closet-case joke that  _didn't_ have to do with Narnia. I idly wondered if he had already prepared it in case he'd ever need it, when he kept talking. "I'll bet knowing someone who won't even lie to protect himself from Neanderthals like  _you_ put that in perspective for you, didn't it?"

He was right. "You don't  _have_  to lie. You get to be whoever you want and no one cares. Your stupid Glee buddies don't care. Your family doesn't care. I  _do_  have to lie. Every day. It sucks. More than you know." He would never know. Because there was no way in hell I was going to tell him how much I cared about him. It would scare him more than the threats. And I didn't want him to run away anymore. Not from me.

Suddenly, a playful smirk appeared on his face and he looked at me in a way that made everything from my chest down to my stomach twist painfully. But in a good way. In a  _great_  way. I didn't know what he was doing.

"Just so you know, the kiss itself  _was_  pretty hot."

_Oh my God!_ He was trying to seem attractive  _on purpose!_ He was  _already_ way too attractive!  _Whyyyy?_  Why was he  _doing_  this to me?

I suddenly felt my cheeks heating up and my head starting to spin. Somehow, I managed to get my point across. Hopefully  _without_  sounding like a complete moron. "Are you kidding? It was pretty much an  _attack_  in an empty locker room by a crazy, homophobic closet-case." I averted my eyes in sudden embarrassment. I'd just admitted to Kurt that I was a closet-case.  _Does this count as progress?_  "You deserved better than that for a first kiss."

I saw him twitch in surprise, the playful flirtiness melting from his face —  _thank God!_  — leaving nothing but astonishment. "Wait, what? How did you know that was my first kiss?"

Hm. Ok.

How could I tell him without sounding like a crazy stalker? Honestly, I had just eavesdropped on the rest of their conversation when I 'left' that day. In reality, I had just hidden on the next flight of stairs. "I heard you and your… friend – Blaine? – talking after I left that day. You said you'd never been kissed." But I'm sure he has now. With  _Blaine._ God, I even hated his stupid fancy  _name…_

I was surprised to see Kurt glance down at his own shoes.  _Well. I guess_ someone _picked up a new habit, huh?_ He replied, though. "No. I hadn't. And not since, either." He looked back up with that same playful smirk. "So far, it's just been you."

_It's just been me._

Pretty-boy wasn't able to kiss Kurt himself? If he hadn't already, the boy was just… stupid. I'm talking, like, fell-down-the-stairs-and-got-serious-long-term-brain-damage kind of stupid.  _Heh._ I suddenly had a mental picture of Blaine falling down the stairs and enjoyed it much more than I should…

Kurt interrupted my daydream with a question. I would have been irritated if he wasn't the only thing better than my wonderful,  _wonderful_  fantasy. "Karofsky? Why did you do it?"

_Do what?_  "Bully you?" He sighed in light impatience. "No. Kiss me. What brought  _that_ on? I mean, what? Did you finally realize you were gay and decide to go for the first guy you could have a chance with?" I could tell he was struggling to stay calm with that question. He was hiding his bitterness very, very badly.

I was completely floored. Is  _that_ what he thought? I answered a little too loudly for the conversation. "No!" I caught myself and softened my voice. "I mean, I didn't know I was… well… I didn't know until I… I kissed you." I laughed, remembering the first time I had said 'gay' to myself. "I couldn't even say the word out loud in my own  _head_  until that day I took the cake topper from you." I sobered down greatly, so he would know I was serious. "But that kiss was pure instinct. I figured out  _from that_ that how much I had liked you. Because you're  _you."_

Did he not realize how  _amazing_ he was? I'm sure he was complimented on his clothes all the time, but— _if his face right now is any indication—_ it was obvious that the boy didn't hear compliments on him _self_ very often _. Well, get used to it._ I didn't let myself think about what I was saying too much. Otherwise, I'd lose my nerve. For once, I just let the truth spill out. And it felt  _great._

"Because you freak out over your clothes and hair. Because when you get angry, you  _know_ how to fight back. Because you didn't care what anyone said or did to you, you just kept coming to school every day in another crazy outfit, with your head held high, like you were just  _asking_ to get pummeled. I  _like_ you so much because you are  _hilarious_  and  _smart_  and  _ridiculously_  talented and – well, I might as well be honest at this point – really,  _really_  hot. Not because you're… you know. But  _me_  being… well, I didn't  _know_  I was."

I tried so hard, but I still couldn't say 'gay' out loud yet. I had been trying and trying lately, but I just wasn't there. Yet. It was even easier to call him hot—and I'm  _still_  shocked I managed that! _—_ than it was to say it.

Thankfully, Kurt didn't push it. Actually, my words seemed to have some effect on him. Some strong effect. Some  _positive_ strong effect.

His eyes were glazed over and his cheeks were just barely tinted with pink. His lips were curved into a tiny smile and his breath was speeding up. If this was what happened when he was complimented, I'd never say anything  _but_ compliments. He  _deserved_ them.

I let myself just see him like this for a minute. He seemed—at least for right now—happy.

And I couldn't help but smile. He just had that effect on me all of a sudden. I couldn't believe how much better 'Happy Kurt' was. I felt like such a complete moron for trying to provoke him in the past, to make him angry with me. I had found it so attractive, but it was  _nothing_ compared to the way he was now. There was no question which Kurt I preferred. I would spend the rest of my time with him trying to keep him that way, no matter what.

He blinked at me, his eyes flickering down to my mouth, like he had never seen me smile.  _Huh. He probably hasn't, actually._

_Am I… forgetting something…?_ Oh, yeah. Right. "There really  _was_ a reason I came all the way over here, you know." "Oh yeah? What's that?" He spoke just a few beats later than he normally would have, sounding just the tiniest bit dazed.

I decided it was finally safe to shorten the distance between us. He didn't seem afraid of me anymore. I was starting to feel hopeful at his tone. There was no way he could be interested in me, but I let myself think it anyway for a blissful few seconds. It was enough to give me the courage to ask what I needed to ask.

Courage was great and all, but our proximity wasn't really helping with my concentration. I willed myself not to think about the body heat between us and to just focus on speaking clearly.

"Come back to McKinley."

It took him a second to answer. I could see him trying to get the wheels in his head spinning again. Finally, he managed to speak.

"Huh?"

Hm. Apparently I didn't speak clearly enough. So I repeated myself. "Come back to McKinley. I know your boyfriend comes here," I struggled to keep the bitterness out of my voice… and failed. "And I'm sure it's all perfect and magical like Hogwarts or… I don't know, whatever. But everyone back at school misses you." It was true. His Glee friends were almost depressing now. All they did was talk about Kurt. Not that I was any better. He was all I could think about.

The truth spilled out of my mouth before I could stop myself again. " _I_ miss you."

Unfortunately for me, that seemed to snap him out of his daze a little bit. "I'm sure your hockey buddies don't miss me so much."  _Uh, yeah… I don't associate myself with those mullet-losers anymore…_

"And Blaine's not my boyfriend you know."

Let's pause the story as I dance the conga in my head:

_Pretty-boy's not his boy_ friend! _Pretty-boy's not his boy_ friend! _Da-da-da da-da DA! Da-da-da da-da DA!_

Aaaaaaaand back to the story…

He continued. "He's just a friend. Though he  _has_ seemed  _much_  more interested lately…"

End conga.

Well, I would have been  _completely_ crushed if he hadn't continued with a look in his eyes like he was trying to tell me something. "What are you going to do about that?"

I was hoping he was saying what I  _thought_ he was saying, but there was  _no_ way I was going to assume anything at this point. Not when I seemed  _so_ close. So I tried to get more out of him. "What do you mean, Hummel?"

Thankfully, he clarified completely. "I need you to give me a  _reason,_ Karofsky. I need you to give me a reason to come back. I felt like I lived in a hellhole there. I was miserable. I had  _nothing._ Here, I have safety. Here, I have the promise that no one – especially you and your 'Puck-head' buddies – can hurt me anymore. And here, I have Blaine. And he's  _wonderful!_ "

_Wonderful._

Well, it was good that I didn't assume anything. I  _knew_ he couldn't like me the way I liked him. He was obviously in love with  _stupid, stupid Blaine!_ This felt worse than when he pushed me away after the kiss. What chance did I have if  _Blaine_ was interested?  _Damn._

But then Kurt did something completely unexpected. He  _gave_  me a chance. "I'm not going to give that all up easily. So I'm going to say it again, Karofsky.  _Give me a reason!_ "

_A reason…?_

Oh.

Oh my God.

I knew what I could do.

And he wouldn't push me away.

I was pretty sure this would never happen again, so I decided to take full advantage of the situation. I would be careful this time. I would be gentle and careful. This would be different.  _Better._

I stepped forward and grabbed his waist gently but firmly. The Dalton blazer was softer than I thought, and I was surprised to feel lean but unmistakable muscles through it. I pulled him close, not wanting any more distance between us. A flash of heat burned through my whole body when he didn't even try to pull away.

We were standing chest to chest, and I hoped the heat would help keep him warm. It really  _was_ pretty chilly, being February and all, and Kurt seemed like the type to get cold easier than others. Especially since the Dalton uniform didn't seem to permit his extensive collection of scarves.

Then I hesitantly brought my other hand to his face,  _slowly_ dragging my fingers over his neck and jaw line to the warmer skin behind his ear and letting myself just feel his smooth skin, relishing the moment. I was determined to make this one last a  _long_ time, in case it never happened again.

I was completely thrilled when he shivered and closed his eyes. I had seen him shiver in fear before, and this was most definitely  _not_ fear. I could tell that—for the moment—he was savoring it as much as I was. Whether or not it was because pretty-boy wasn't smart enough to take advantage of what he had right in front of him, I really didn't care. I didn't even deserve  _this,_ so I was happy with what I could get.

I stroked his soft hair for a minute before I couldn't take it anymore. Feeling an almost nauseating sense of déjà vu, I cupped his neck like I did during our first kiss. I leaned in carefully, taking in every detail, anticipating a distress call. Hearing none, I spoke, feeling his breath speed up.

"Here's your reason, Hummel."

Then I leaned in and did what I'd wanted to do for two months. What Kurt  _deserved_. A replacement. A soft, romantic press of lips on lips, rather than an angry, heated, spur-of-the-moment attack in a smelly locker room. I gave Kurt the perfect first kiss.

And then I pulled back.

Not that I  _wanted_ to, of course. It wasn't  _nearly_ enough for me. At all. All I wanted was to keep kissing him. And if someone saw us, well then I hope they enjoyed the show. But I was afraid that I had done something wrong. That Kurt would completely snap out of it whatever enchantment he was currently under and push me away again. And then run away. And that was something I would definitely have to brace myself for, because I didn't know  _what_  I would do if everything went back to normal and I wasn't prepared for it.

What I  _so_ wasn't prepared for, though, was for him to smirk at me in that playful, flirty way again. Was he… making fun of me?  _Well, he sure as hell isn't running away!_  I was pretty confused, but then he spoke up. "What was  _that_ , Karofsky? You call that a  _reason_? I could  _feel_  something in the last kiss, that day in the locker room. I could tell you meant it. Do you not mean it this time?"

No. Way.

Was he actually  _asking_ for another kiss?  _Settle down, Dave._ Again, I didn't want to assume anything. I could tell his words were teasing, but I wanted to know what he really meant. So I stared him down for a minute, making absolute  _sure_ that that's what he wanted.

He didn't waver. My heart rate increased significantly, and I was  _actually_  afraid of it crashing out of my chest.

_He wants this, too…_

I refused to overthink it this time. For once, I just let myself go. And it was the best decision I  _ever_  made.

I swiftly leaned down and kissed him the way I  _wanted_ to. It was… incredible. I went on instinct, starting out slowly, but with the same fervor from our first kiss.

Here's the thing. I'm sure my history with Kurt proved more than anything else that I found it really hard to tell him how I felt about him. About this whole… situation. I— _clearly_ —just wasn't good with words.

But I knew an opportunity when I saw one. I would  _show_ him exactly how I felt, and how I had felt every time I saw him during and after the kiss. I would let everything just pour out, and hope desperately that he got the message.

I tried to show him how attracted I was to not only his great looks, but also his amazing, fiery personality. How frustrated I was that I couldn't just tell him and everyone else what I  _really_  thought of him—not for a while, anyway. How jealous I was of stupid pretty-boy and how determined I was to make him the last thought on Kurt's mind in this moment. How absolutely  _ecstatic_ I was that he was here.  _Kissing me back_.  _After_ everything I had done and said to him.

I  _wanted_  Kurt Hummel, and for the first time ever, I wasn't the only one who knew. Because I had finally manned up and gone after what I wanted. I  _finally_  made an effort, and mentally kicked myself in the balls for not doing it  _much_ sooner.

_I sure as hell_ do  _mean it, Kurt._

Now that I wasn't scared and angry and confused, I was able to do it properly. Take my time. And Kurt didn't seem to mind too much. In fact, I had to remind myself that  _I_ had been the only person he'd ever kissed. Because if he learned how to kiss from  _me_ , then I must have been pretty damn good! Not that he was an  _expert_ , of course. But his obvious innocence made him almost… charming? Appealing? I didn't quite know what word to use.

_Who cares?_ I was in heaven!

I had stupidly begun to think that this couldn't get any better, when he grabbed the front of my shirt and attempted to pull me closer, if that was even possible.  _He_ was pulling  _me_ closer!

My stomach twisted intensely in delight and I finally got up the courage to move my hands. They dragged from their places on his neck and hip to wrap around his slim waist, and I hugged him close.

I then lost all control as I became enormously conscious that I was  _holding_ Kurt. Kissing him and holding him. At the same time. It made it seem more… real.  _So_  real. I couldn't stop my lips from crushing against his even more than they already were. Except I realized that might not be such a great idea when I noticed him struggling to breathe. I panicked for a second, not wanting to stop. Not even physically  _able_ to stop, actually.

But I mentally facepalmed myself when I remembered that there was  _way_ more to Kurt than those wide, pink lips of his. Remembering how soft and pale and smooth and  _perfect_  his jaw line and neck were, I enthusiastically focused my attention there. And silently panicked again, hoping I didn't take things too far too soon.

Suddenly, his arms began to move. For one upsetting moment, I thought he was going to try to pull away. But one hand left the front of my shirt to grab at my upper arm. The other slid up to behind my neck, bringing my face even  _closer_  to his neck. Then he made this  _noise_ …

Now, I had heard Kurt make lots of noises in the time that I'd known him, before  _and_ after the kiss. I had heard him gasp in shock whenever he got Slushied. I had heard his breath shake in fear when I cornered him and stole the wedding cake topper. I had heard him snort in superior amusement when I said something stupid—which was often.

But  _never_ had I had the chance to hear anything  _close_ to this. It was… a moan. It was low and warm. And, though short and quiet, it was enough to make me feel like I was going to lose my balance. I suddenly felt dizzy and amazing and burning all at the same time. Kurt's knees felt like they were going to give out, too. And I didn't want to have to stop what we were doing because neither of us could keep on our feet.

So I was somehow able to maneuver the both of us over to the side of the hallway, my lips never leaving his skin.  _Just_ as I pushed him against the wall, and my lips reached the soft curve of skin where his neck met his shoulder…

_"Oompf!"_

_Crap! I must have pinned too hard!_ The only thing that could break me out of this spell I was under was the fear of hurting Kurt. I immediately broke away without thinking twice about it, making sure he was ok. I was  _freaking_ out, praying I didn't hurt him.  _Watch. I pinned to hard, and now he's going to remember what kind of monster you were to him and run away screaming, and…_

_Laugh?_

_Oh my God!_  He was actually laughing!  _Yes! Yes, yes, yes!_ For whatever reason, it was weirdly almost better than the sound he made when we were kissing: an interesting combination of his masculinity  _and_ femininity _._ Deep and throaty, but almost a giggle. And not even sarcastic or malicious. Breezy and relaxed and  _real._ It was kind of addicting, actually.

I suddenly wished I were funnier…

Anyway, as happy as I was that I  _finally_ heard him laugh, I was a little skeptical about  _why_ he was laughing. Was the kiss not as good as I thought? Was this all some big joke to screw with my head? I don't know… was he crazy?  _What the hell?_

Thankfully it was none of those things. He quickly clarified. "Don't worry. I'm just not used to seeing you so concerned for my well-being. That's all." I compared tonight's events to our confrontations in the past, and yeah; I had to laugh, too. It was just all so… bizarre.

Then I remembered  _why_  we had stopped tonight's… events. So I stopped laughing and asked, "Did I hurt you?" I was honestly concerned. He was just so  _small_ , you know?

But he was quick to ease my fears. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. I bruise like a fabulously dressed peach,"  _Wow. Such a classic Kurt Hummel line…_

"And you play in a brutal sport where the main goal is slamming three hundred pound Neanderthals against unbreakable walls."  _Not anymore…_

"Besides, this isn't even the  _first_  time I've been slammed into a wall by you. This is just the first time I haven't really  _minded_." I flinched, vividly remembering every time I had shoved him into a locker. He chose to ignore that and continued. "It's just something we're going to have to get used to."

It took me a minute to grasp what he was getting at, but then it hit me like a 250-pound linebacker. Especially the 'we' part. "You mean… you'll come back?"

He didn't answer at first.  _Holy crap, he's actually considering it!_ But then he started talking. "Look, Karofsky…"

_No! Enough with the freaking 'Karofsky' already!_ "Dave." He jerked in surprise, obviously not used to being interrupted. But this was important. He asked, "Huh?"

I explained. "My name is Dave."

_'Look, Karofsky…'_ I was suddenly afraid that he was going to leave. Now that it was over, anyway. And I wouldn't blame him at all. Didn't make me feel any better, though. In fact, it felt like someone grabbed my heart and tried to crush it like a grape.

But I somehow managed to smile, going over the last couple of minutes. "After what we just did, I think it's safe to call each other by our first names. Don't you?" He thought it over for a minute, looking like he was almost analyzing me. To my delight, he smiled and complied. "Ok, Dave."

Whoever was trying to squash my heart like a grape immediately let go.  _This has_ got  _to be a good sign, right?_ I couldn't believe how great it felt hearing him say my  _actual_ name. He'd called me Neanderthal, Ignoramus, and Karofsky, among other things. I  _hated_ Karofsky. Dave didn't seem to be doing so badly. I relaxed.

Of course as soon as I relaxed, he had to go and throw another punch. "I haven't by a long shot forgotten how I was treated at McKinley." He briefly let go of my arm to gesture between us. "This little make-out session we just had doesn't erase all that."  _Holy crap! We_ did  _just make out, didn't we?_  "Though I must say; it  _was_  pretty hot." He started to run his fingers up and down the back of my neck. He didn't even seem to notice he was doing it. And if I hadn't just been kissing him, I would have sworn it was the greatest thing I'd ever felt. Especially when he smiled at me. Not a smirk, not a sneer… a  _smile_. I shivered in pleasure.

He thought it was  _hot!_  I did too,  _obviously_ , but that was because of  _him_. Not because of something  _I_ had done. How could he possibly think—?

_Oh my God! Who cares? He thought it was HOT!_

I still couldn't smile, though. Even as amazing as I felt right now. There was something I had to do before we went any further; something I realized I still hadn't done. Apologized.

So I tightened my arms around him, hugging him so, so close. "I'm sorry. I am  _so_  sorry. There was  _no_  excuse for what I did to you. Any of it. Well…" I finally smiled, realizing that he had a stray piece of hair in his face. This was probably the first time I'd ever seen—including the times I'd shoved him— _Kurt Hummel_  with a hair out of place. It was… strange. And wonderful. It gave me an excuse to raise my hand up and brush it back into place. Gently.

Then I continued. "Actually I  _do_ have an excuse for kissing you without your permission. It wasn't the best way to go, but do you even  _know_ how adorable you are when you're yelling?" He really was. His face flushed when he was angry, and his eyes flashed steely gray. I didn't know many people whose eyes changed with their mood. And when Kurt was pissed, you could  _tell_.

Besides, he was a small little guy. Taller this year, yeah, and leaner, but still small. Whenever he stood up to me or anyone else, though, he seemed to grow about three feet. The fact that he could fight back so passionately without the same…  _physical_ advantages as the rest of us, was really,  _really_  freaking cool.

He looked at me in surprise. "I'm adorable?"

I was about ready to go on to say  _just_ how adorable he was when he stopped me. "Actually, don't answer that. I know I'm adorable. But you're making me lose my train of thought." Probably a wise choice on his part. I could have gone on for  _hours_.

_But awww!_ See? There it was. That adorable…ness. But I needed to hear him out. So I mimed locking my lips and throwing away the key. Then I waited for him to go on.

He breathed in deeply. "I'm not going to come back right away. I need to know that you've changed. So, I'm going to keep tabs on you through my friends in Glee club. I need to know that you've stopped harassing them."

I nodded, sensing that he wasn't done. The fun part was over. This was serious, and I needed to hear it. He went on. "Also, I don't expect you to change from 'I'm going to beat the ever-loving crap out of the Hummel kid just because he's gay' Karofsky to 'the Hummel kid is my boyfriend now, oh yeah and by the way, I'm gay' Dave overnight. I'm not saying that we should hold hands down the hall or that you should walk me to all my classes – though that would be  _amazing_." He smiled, obviously trying to lighten the mood. But I wasn't ready for that yet.

I had to process the fact that  _he_ was trying to make things easier for  _me._  He was sacrificing his own happiness at getting his first boyfriend— _Oh. My. God. He called me his boyfriend!… No! Focus on that later!—_ so that  _I_ would be comfortable.

I didn't deserve it. I  _wanted_  it—the relationship; not the secret— _so_  badly. But I didn't deserve it. At all.

Before I could dwell too much on the depressing fact that Kurt would be forced to suffer because  _I_ was the coward in this relationship, he kept going. "But you need to not be my bully anymore. If anything, we need to at  _least_  be friends at school. I can start by tutoring you in French. It'll be a perfect cover – considering how bad your grade is – for you to explain to your 'friends'. We can go from there. How does  _that_ sound?"

I looked at him for a minute, soaking in the basic truth of what he was saying. He was willing to  _lie_  to everyone for me. For  _me._

Unable to take it anymore, I pulled him in and buried his head beneath my chin. Then I rested my head on his and sighed. "That sounds good, I guess. I wish you'd come back right away, but I'll just have to deal with it." It was the truth. I  _did_ want him to come back  _right freaking now!_  But I decided not to press the matter further.

Instead, I just held him there. I kept waiting for the awkwardness to begin, but it never did. I could have stayed like that forever, but I remembered something else I had to make sure he knew. "And Kurt?" He leaned back for a minute and looked into my eyes.

I was distracted for a minute. It was bizarre seeing him so relaxed with  _me_ of all people. He was just… calm. I let the truth spill out again, hoping I wasn't ruining the moment with useless conversation.

"I just want to let you know that  _I_  want to do all that, too. You have  _no_ idea how much I want to walk down the hallway holding your hand. Or walk you to  _every single_  one of your classes. And it's going to be harder than you know  _not_  to grab you and kiss you every time I pass you in the hall." It was true. Until I was ready to come out, it was probably best that Kurt stay at Dalton. I didn't know if I would be able to control myself.

Especially now that I knew he would be just as ready and eager for a hot make-out session in the nearest janitor's closet.

What little tension he had left in his body completely melted away, and his eyes softened to the point that I thought he would fall asleep in my arms. Not that I would mind, of course. He managed to speak, and it was warmer than I had ever heard it. "I know, Dave. Look, my dad's not going to be so keen on you coming over to my house to study. Neither is Finn. Why don't you come  _here_ every Wednesday and we can work on your French grade. Ok? There's this  _nice_ library here that  _no one_  bothers to go to after school's out. The first thing we can do is  _make out_ a study guide." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

_Holy crap! I've got the best boyfriend ever!_ I squeezed my arms around his waist and grinned. "That sounds great." He trailed the hand that was behind my neck to the side of it, and let his fingers just barely brush my skin. Then he went on his toes and kissed me.

_He_ kissed  _me!_  For the first time,  _I_ wasn't the one who initiated it. I couldn't comprehend how it could be so much better than  _me_ kissing  _him,_ but it was.  _So_ much better. It was like he was confirming the fact that—as impossible as it seemed—he could like me back.

And if someone had told me this morning when I decided to come see him at Dalton that  _Kurt Hummel_ , the boy who I made miserable but wanted so, so badly would be  _willingly_ kissing me, I would have kindly introduced you to 'The Fury' and politely asked you to go sell stupid somewhere else.

You know… something along those lines.

So you could hardly blame me for responding so… enthusiastically. I tried to pick up where we had left off, and he seemed more than willing. I pressed him firmly against the wall, hoping to keep us both on our feet.

Suddenly, he threw his arms around my neck, pulling me closer and down to his level. I couldn't help the (loud) noise I made, but didn't regret it at _all_. Not when I could feel him shiver in response. It spurred him on to new levels of making out, and really,  _really_ hoped I wouldn't pass out.

Several minutes later, he pulled away. If I weren't so  _freaking_ happy, I probably would have cried. But I didn't. I couldn't exactly say much, either.  _Not… enough… air…_

Kurt somehow managed to speak, though he looked just as out of breath as I was. "That will have to last you until next Wednesday. I really do have to go. It's nearly 9:00, and my dad's going to freak if I'm home later than that on a school night."  _Damn!_

Well that sucked. I tried to tell him so, but I still couldn't stop wheezing.  _Holy crap. I freaking play football! Why can't I catch my breath?_

It took me forever to calm down enough to speak. "I guess you're right." But my heart was betraying me.  _No! Just stay here with me!_ We had to be responsible, though. So I allowed him break away from my hold. He bent down to grab his dropped bag. I idly wondered when he had dropped it, but his shivering distracted me.

He looked so small and cold and  _inviting,_ that I just couldn't help it. I reached out and grabbed his hand. I wanted to be close to him for as long as I possibly could. To drag this out this perfect night as much as I could. Thankfully, I had a good excuse. "You mind if I walk you to your car?"

He grinned at me. It wasn't a smirk or a sneer or even that soft, beautiful smile he'd flashed at me earlier. It was a large, wonderful 'I'm having the time of my life right now' type of full-blown grin. "Not at all."

As we walked to his car, I kept my mouth shut. We didn't talk, but it wasn't even really necessary. It was amazing how comfortable we suddenly were with each other. I  _loved_ it.

And I loved the fact that I was suddenly hyper-aware of  _everything._ How smooth his hand was… how he kept lightly bumping into my arm as we walked… little things like that. I could tell Kurt was thinking heavily, and that would have worried me if he didn't have this comfortable, serene little smile on his face.

We finally reached his car. I was hit with overwhelming instinct, and decided to act on them for once. So when he faced me, leaning slightly against the car, I tentatively raised my hand to his face and stroked his cheek softly with my thumb. Then I leaned down and kissed him one more time.

It was nothing like our make-outs earlier. It also wasn't like the supposed 'perfect first kiss' I had tried to give him. This was a tender,  _passionate_ kiss. It was slow and lingering, and I could feel Kurt leaning into it.

I broke away, opening my eyes. He still had his eyes closed, and his lips were still puckered and trying to follow mine. It took him a moment to realize I'd broken away. It was just so…  _cute._

I laughed softly. Adoringly. I really,  _really_ wanted to kiss him again, but it was really cold out, and I didn't want him to get sick or anything. "Go home, Kurt. It's freezing out here. I'll see you on Wednesday."  _Gonna be the best Wednesday of my freaking life!_  I squeezed his hand one more time, and then let go.

He pouted, sticking out his plump lower lip. I almost went in for the kill, but I held off. Barely. He responded. " _Fine_. I'm going." He breathed out in a huff, like he was mad at me.  _Awww…_

"See you Wednesday." He climbed in the driver's seat and started up the car. As he pulled out of the spot, he blew me a kiss. My boyfriend blew me a kiss.

_My boyfriend…_

Holy crap!

I had gotten Kurt Hummel—my first real kiss and my first real crush and my first real  _everything—_ as a boyfriend! There were absolutely no words for the joy I was feeling. I leapt around, pumping my fist crazily. I didn't care who saw me. I was happy for once, and  _nothing_ would ruin it for me that night.

I was in love!

_Damn that it's only Thursday…_

**Author's Note:**

> (Reposting all of my fics from my ff.net account in order of publication. I'm there under hpgleek713 if you want to go check it out. Enjoy!)


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